Carbon Copy
by ForeverMATT
Summary: So similar. Like looking in a mirror, but more vulgar. An intimacy beyond words. Feelings expressed through blindfolds and injections. Mail x Matt. (Rated M for future chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Carbon Copy

**Summary:** So similar. Like looking in a mirror, but more vulgar. An intimacy beyond words. Feelings expressed through blindfolds and injections. Mail x Matt.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

**Author's Note:** No excuse. I should be finishing up other stuff first. This should only be a TwoShot or a ThreeShot at most.

…

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

A company with no name and no product to sell, it can bypass all laws and concerns as long as the government does not recognize it or its wares as something viral in the public domain. And perhaps that's a problem. Perhaps not.

Regardless to right and wrong, such an invisible company does exist, and its product... is still under construction.

…

"_You signed the waiver, Mr Jeevas?"_

"_Yeah, now how long is this going to take?"_

"_It shouldn't take more than a month, what with the advances we've made in terms of genetic recreation. In no time at all, we'll be able to supply you with your very own duplicate."_

…

* * *

**/Short and sucky prologue, but it's just an intro, and the final chapter will likely be PWP. -WHY DON'T PEOPLE WRITE ON CLONING MORE OFTEN?!/**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Carbon Copy

**Summary: **So similar. Like looking in a mirror, but more vulgar. An intimacy beyond words. Feelings expressed through blindfolds and injections. Mail x Matt.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

**Author's Note:** Uh... Lame chapter is lame.

…

* * *

"_It shouldn't take more than a month, what with the advances we've made in terms of genetic recreation. In no time at all, we'll be able to supply you with your very own duplicate."_

_..._

A month had come and gone and one Mr Mail Jeevas stood beside a metal table, on which was a blanketed body.

"Is this it?" the redhead asked, eyes widening in anticipation as he chewed his lip nervously and flexed his fingers on impulse. "He's alive and well? You sure he's stable? I've read about unstable clones..."

Mail was silenced by the man in the lab coat raising his hand in gest. "You must realize that there are rules."

At this, excitement began to deplete from emerald eyes. "Rules?" he repeated with much less enthusiasm. "Of course. Like what?"

He was handed a list, which he read dutifully.

* * *

_Genetic Recreation  
CC Human: Model 03.  
MATT_

_Traits: pale skin, red hair, no disfigurations, one birthmark, freckles, etc._

_To Whom it may Concern:  
If you are reading this, you are either the Creator or the Host.  
If you are the Creator, congratulations on your success.  
If you are the Host, please follow these rules in regards to caring for your very own Carbon Copy.  
_

_Rules:_

_-You'll notice that the eye color of your copy is not listed under the Traits. That is done on purpose. Your CC does not have an eye color. Since it is entirely artificial, it does not have sight through an optic lens. Instead, it has sensors throughout the body and a brain that can learn and register as fast as any Super Computer._

_-You may notice that your CC wears eye protection. This is NOT -repeat: NOT- for the protection of the copy; it is a protection for the Host!_

_-The Host must NEVER make direct eye contact with the Copy._

_REASONS ARE CLASSIFIED._

_-The Carbon Copy can eat and digest, but its insides do not function like that of a typical human. For the most part, AVOID excess consumption._

_-CC is capable of a wide range of emotions, thoughts and feelings; it's mobility is nearly limitless._

_-Keep away from magnets._

_-Keep out of reach of children (may contain small parts. Choking Hazard.)_

_-Keep in a modest climate. CC cannot register or regulate temperature. Too much heat or chill can damage it._

_-Carbon Copy does not sleep, but it can be manually put into sleep mode. However, in order to keep the CC realistic, it is not a button that can be seen on the outside. To activate sleep mode, simply slide a lubricated finger into the *_Mail does not read the rest of this section_*_

_If there are any questions or concerns, please contact the Creator as soon as possible._

_But REMEMBER! Most importantly, NEVER make direct eye contact. It could be hazardous to you (the Host)._

_the creator and/or the company is not liable for any injuries or accidents that may occur. see page 4 of waiver for details._

* * *

"So, that's it? Let's get him activated. His name's Matt, right?" Mail says this, and as he slips the paper into his pocket, he's all too eager to see how his duplicate has turned out.

Every day for the past month, he's had to give more and more of his own DNA samples to help the process; his body has been poked, prodded, scanned and much more.

And now, he was more than ready to meet his double. But first-

"One more thing, Mr Jeevas."

"Huh?"

"Your Carbon Copy... he will be stable, but once every 48 hours, you may need to inject him with your DNA. Y'see, we've had two other models before this, and we're almost positive we've gotten it down right, but... the first one deteriorated when it ran out of genetic material to filter through. Then our second lasted a while, but only because we continued to work with it, helping to keep it going while monitoring its every vital need. -We're confident yours will be stable, but if you notice any problems-"

"I've got it. Keep the Mogwai out of the light, don't get him wet, and never feed him after midnight."

"Sir, this isn't a joke. This is not a cheesy 80's movie about Gremlins. This is a Carbon-"

"I know, now can we just activate it? I'm kinda in a hurry."

The man in the lab coat sighed in frustration before carefully drawing back the blanket that covered his creation, slowly unveiling bright scarlet locks, a pale, perfect face marred only by a blindfold, and then an anatomically correct body with lean muscles, pert nipples, a slim waist, boney hips, a flaccid dick, knobby knees, toned calves, and long skinny feet.

Mail looked the CC over expectantly and frowned when nothing happened. "Ugh, doc? How do you activate it?"

"Mr Jeevas, you're the Host. You have to activate it."

"How?"

"...Ever heard the tale of Sleeping Beauty?"

At this, the redhead paled. "So, I have to kiss it?"

…

* * *

**/And... now I'm lame. But the next chapter is the last, and it'll be a PWP. REVIEW!/**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Carbon Copy

**Summary: **So similar. Like looking in a mirror, but more vulgar. An intimacy beyond words. Feelings expressed through blindfolds and injections. Mail x Matt.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

**Author's Note(s):** Ready for a fun fact? Well, here goes! I initially got the idea to write this after I had a dream. That dream was of Matt (DN)... or so I thought. Y'see, the infamous redhead we all know and love referred to himself as Mail (which is normal, all things considered), but then he went to a futuristic clinic of sorts and had himself cloned. His clone was to be named Matt, and all seemed to be going well... -perhaps too well? *insert BDSM* (NO, THERE WILL NOT BE BDSM IN THE FIC; THAT WAS JUST PART OF MY DREAM... And yes, I'm a VERY dirty boy in that aspect.)

Ready for another fun fact? I was stoked at the idea of writing a Mail x Matt fanfic involving the idea of cloning, but I NEVER start writing anything without a title and summary first. Sadly, the first title that came to mind was: Home A(c)lone. (A parody of Home Alone, isn't that terrible?) But I quickly decided on Carbon Copy, for which, I'm sure we're all glad.

Final little factoid: For those who care or are interested, I kinda/sorta have a boyfriend. (Hence why I've been MIA!) Anyways, I told him a bit about Carbon Copy and asked if he had any opinions on what I might add, and his words were (and I QUOTE!) "Eh, s'cool. Just, like, have the dudes suck each other off or something. -Oh, y'gonna make me a hobo pie? I want one..." -Soooo, I made him a hobo pie, and that was the end of it. *awkward*

Now, why are you still reading my A/N? Get to the rest of the fic!

…

* * *

The last thing the redheaded Host wanted to do was _kiss _his own Carbon Copy. He wasn't a narcisist; he wasn't attracted to himself in the least. But he supposed that didn't matter.

Bracing a hand on the table, he closed his eyes and leaned down, face gradually moving closer to his mirrored image. When his lips briefly brushed against Matt's, he pulled away quickly, showing his distaste for the event. But again, nothing happened; his Copy failed to stir in the slightest, let alone wake.

Frustrated, the redheaded Host glared at the man in the lab coat. "Well?"

"Oh, well, as I was saying... You've heard of _Sleeping Beauty_? It's like the porno version of that."

"... the _porno_ version?" Running a hand through his hair, Mail was faced with a question: How bad did he want to activate his CC?

Thankfully, the Creator elaborated with "you don't necessarily have to have sex with it. Just get it excited; stimulate it."

Thinking it over, Mail gave in. Cautiously, he reached a hand to his Copy's head and felt the hair -it felt so natural. So real...

Sliding that hand down, feeling the smooth, warm artificial flesh and the flawless contours of the face, he guided said hand down, lightly grazing his fingertips along the pale column of throat, to Matt's shoulder, gripping as he climbed upon the table and straddled his duplicate.

Mail loomed over Matt like an omen. An inverted shadow.

In this position, this situation, Mail felt discomfort and expressed it with a request to be alone, though his words were more along the lines of: "Can I get some damn privacy for this? Fuck off or something so I can play with myself!"

Wordlessly, the Creator left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving a flustered redhead and his catatonic replica.

Once alone, Mail took a deep breath and looked over Matt's body, noticing how warm and smooth the skin felt under him – how inviting and realistic. Curiously, he leaned close, craning his neck and inhaling the scent of his double... but there was no smell, aside from the waft of disinfectant that lingered in the room. Then, leaning just a bit closer, his breath ghosted along the delicate jawline of his double, and he caught the ricochet of his own invitation.

What a scandal, to feel a jumping pulse radiating between the two. Had Mail been motionless, it might be hard to tell which redhead was organic and which one was made of specially blended fibers and carefully hidden seams: a ragdoll with a potential life force but no soul.

Closing his eyes and breathing as calmly as possible, the Host allowed contact to be made -just a small, chaste kiss... but that's all it took for Mail to succumb to the lifeless creation beneath him.

He could detect no specific smell, but some devilish pheromone was at work, teasing his senses and drawing his lips back to the artificial cells. He kissed those lips again. Again and again. Like a bee with nectar, he suckled and licked, consuming, barely registering the restriction of his own clothes before he noticed arms encircling him and lips moving against his own.

The most egotistical form of erotica. Twin fuckery, if you will.

Pulling back with a gasp, eyes opening to reveal wide, lustful emeralds, Mail silently mouthed the name of his Copy before uncertainly uttering it._"Mah-Matt?" _A nervous smile pulled between his cheeks, and he wondered what would happen next. Excitement flooded him: a swarm of insects vomiting infants of sex within his own hardening dick. "You're Matt."

"Correct. I am Matt. Can I help you?" With his surprisingly articulate speech, the Copy sat up and slowly reached a hand to his blindfold -an action which Mail quickly stopped.

"You're supposed to leave that on, Matt."

"Then I will. Now, since it was you who woke me, won't you introduce yourself? You know my name already, it seems."

Face heating up, beet red, Mail nodded sheepishly and stepped down from the table, glad to be wearing clothes that would hide his peek-a-boo buddy. "I'm uh... I'm Mail, I guess. I'm your Host."

Matt was quiet and motionless. For a moment, it was as if he wasn't real at all. A toy; a child's plaything. Another Geppetto's Pinocchio. But then his face contorted, cheeks rounding and lips pulling to the side, smirking. "I can read your traits and recite any and all personal documentation on you. All without ever looking at you face to face or digging into your past. You and I -we're the same, Mail."

Slowly, Mail nodded, but he said nothing. He vaguely wondered if his Copy could sense this movement just as he seemed to sense everything else without the traditional means of sight, but he thought better of asking.

"Will you be explaining my intended use before departure? -I see you are sporting an erection. Shall I fix that?"

"N-No, Matt; it's fine. Fucking you would be like-" Mail began, flustered as ever, only to have his thoughts finished by his duplicate.

"Fucking me would be like fucking yourself."

"...yeah. And don't say 'fuck' or any variation of the word. It's one thing when I say it, but for you to say it, it's just weird. I mean, you're like, a few minutes old. You're like a baby."

"A baby you wanna have sex with. I felt your boner, dude."

Fortunately for Mail the awkward conversation was interrupter with the entrance of the Creator. The man in the lab coat walked in with a proud grin and a small tin case at hand. "Mail and Matt, it's nice to see you two getting along." With those words, he lessened the distance between himself and his creation. Grabbing a fistful of red hair, he took a closer look at Matt. "Wonderful. Everything seems to be in working order. You're moving, talking, and breathing. How is speech?"

Mail watched wordlessly, hands at his side as he attempted to will away the uncomfortable strain of his hard on.

Meanwhile, Matt answered his Creator by swatting his hand away and saying: "my speech is pretty fuckin' awesome, Doc. But my Host is a bit of bitch. Can I get a new one?"

Mail grunted in irritation but failed to comment.

But the man in the lab coat responded to the surmised question regardless: "Jeevas, Matt was made to have a blank personality and know only factual things, but he's also meant to be a fast learner; his mind works like a sponge, and he appears to have taken one of your personality traits and made it his own. Unless we manually reset him, his behavior will likely continue along these lines."

Matt crossed his arms and moved his head back and forth to simulate impatience in regards to waiting for the conclusion of their conversation.

Mail simply took a deep breath before asking: "Alright, how to we reset him?"

To this, the Creator frowned, face twisting and cheeks sagging heavily like dog ears over his chin. "_We _don't. _You, _on the other hand, can get him dressed and take him home as he is. I'll send a manual -it's in this case, along with the genetic injections he'll be needing to maintain stability. The manual will tell you all you need to know about caring for him and working with him. Just be sure to follow all the rules and NEVER let him look you in the eye. -Oh, and check back in a few days with a report on how he's doing in his new environment."

…

Three hours pass and Mail finally managed to get his snarky duplicate home, but not without Matt having to stop and examine, smell, touch, and taste everything he could.

-A poor pigeon was caught and almost eaten before Mail was able to gain control of the situation, to which Matt simply stated: "I learn fast, but common sense is a trait I do not yet possess. Besides, _knowing_ something isn't the same as _experiencing_ it."

Once home, Mail allowed Matt to sit and watch the Discovery Channel while he, being the responsible Host he was, leafed through a nice thick Owners Manual.

_Getting Started!  
__Congratulations on being a proud new owner of the newest form of Genetic Recreation.  
You now have your very own CC Human: Model 3.  
His name is Matt, and he will respond to such until otherwise specified.  
In this manual, you will encounter a series of Do's and Don'ts, but first, let's learn How It Works!  
The original Models...-_

Growning impatient, Mail skipped the long introduction and skimmed the Table of Contents, looking for a section that would help him Reset his Copy.

_Resetting your CC!  
If there comes a time when your CC is not functioning the way you desire, please resort to Troubleshooting on pg 113. If that proves ineffective, there is a Reset Switch located..._

And Mail groaned in frustration, eyes squinting and temples throbbing as he whined: "Why are half of your controls in your fuckin' _ass_, Matt?! The Reset switch, the Sleep Mode button, and probably half the other stupid things that...- just... why couldn't you come with a remote or something?! -Fuck, I'm glad I don't intend to have sex with you!" As those words fell from his mouth and he slumped down further into his chair, he was surprised to realize that he could no longer hear the sound of the tv.

No documentary about some African tribe, or whatever.

In fact, when the redheaded Host turned to look at the tv, it was off, and his duplicate wasn't in the room at all.

"Matt? Dammit, Matt, where are you?" Tossing the manual to the floor and getting up, Mail began to look for his double, calling him by name and shouting spiteful threats.

After searching all other rooms, Mail found himself just outside his own bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on the knob and turned. Heart pounding, veins throbbing, sweat beading on his neck and forehead, he pulled the door open, eyes widening at the sight that greeted him.

His Copy, Matt, was _not_ dressed in the plain and simple scrubs that he'd been given at the lab. Rather, he was completely nude, hands and knees on the bed and predatory grin in place.

"Matt, what are you-"

"I've been waiting for you, Mail. I know you want to reset me, but don't you want to get to know me first? I'll play real nice." His grin stretched even wider as he moved to a sitting position, knees apart and synthetic dick arching up with pride.

"Matt, no. Alright? I'll admit that I got turned on earlier, but that's a natural biological reaction. You, on the other hand, are neither natural nor biological. -Now, I read some of the manual, and I think-"

"And that's your problem. You're thinking. Mail, don't think. Just come sit with me, and I'll give you seven reasons not to reset me."

Hearing this, Mail shook his head. "No. Look, I'm the Host; you're just a Copy. You're not even real, okay? You're just a very realistic piece of technology, like CG made into something solid and substantial. You're an upgraded version of one of those plastic robot dogs. Now, just let me reset you and put you in Sleep Mode; and we'll start over tomorrow."

As those words were uttered, a low growl escaped the Copy. "No." Defiance dripped from the tone of his curt denial.

"Come again? Matt, I-"

"No, Mail. How do I _know_ that you are not the Copy? Let _me_ find _your_ Reset button!"

And there it was: two redheads staring each other down -green eyes boring through a simple blindfold- one naked and vengeful and the other clothed and wary. Like water and oil, they didn't mix.

Steeling his nerves, the Host moved closer, arms stretching and fingers spanned in preparation to apprehend his double. However, before he could even make contact, Matt's hands weretugging at the fabric over his eyes.

"Matt, no! You're not supposed to-"

But the blindfold was already off, and Matt was getting to his feet, eyelids fluttering and long lashes on display.

Feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline, Mail averted his gaze, trying desperately to heed the warning he was given. "Mail, put the blindfold back on, and we'll talk. I won't reset you; I just...- Let's agree on some ground rules. Okay?"

The duplicate appeared thoughtful and gave a nod. "Alright, Mail. But if I'm going to behave, I want some form of bribery."

"...what do you have in mind?"

…

It didn't make sense, at least, not to Mail. But somehow, his duplicate seemed to mellow out. And all it took was a pair of goggles and a handheld gaming console.

Matt was a machine, a tool; his sole purpose was to perform some task or another more efficient than a human partner.

When Matt was activated, he knew only touch and Host. He knew facts. Then, with anxious hands ready to feel and explore, he understood _desire_. And after trading only a few simple sentences, he adapted to lust and sarcasm: an obnoxious combination. But... even these qualities were not enough to mask the childlike fixation with objects, sights, sounds.

Mail should have prepared for everything before activating his CC, but he failed to do so.

And it was all but alarming when Matt had brought up the idea of not knowing Host from Copy, then unmasked himself, revealing pearl-white sclera with no iris or pupil. While Mail refused eye contact, Matt almost pleaded: "I wanna see your eyes. How can I be sure of anything if I can't even do that?"

So, to appease the redheaded Copy and avoid direct eye contact, Mail found an old pair of goggles and gave it to Matt, which would remove the possibly harmful effects of direct eye contact.

But even that wasn't enough.

Matt was still nagging, still pouncing at every chance he got. Matt was '_thinking_' too much.

_-If idle hands are the devil's plaything, one can only imagine what to call an idle mechanical mind._

Mail decided that perhaps Matt just needed an activity to keep busy at. So he showed him a Gameboy, and... much to his surprise and relief, the entirety of Matt's focus remained in on said game.

…

Days passed, Mail reading the manual and going about his usual daily activities and Matt remaining in place, fingers tapping, goggled eyes glued to the small screen. Over and over, the same game was played, biological needs never surfacing to interrupt.

In time, the Host grabbed a cup of coffee and sat next to his double, leaning close to get a look at Matt's gaming prowess.

"So... you've been quiet," Mail said offhandedly, moving closer, so close that he and his synthetic twin were sharing body heat. For a long time, no response was given, verbal or otherwise.

Fingers still tapping. An internal compression achieved a simulated sigh, and Matt's voice emerged smooth and calm. "Busy. High score. Perfect game. Platform RPG. Right four paces, jump, jump, double jump. Access loot. Jump. Right another three paces. Combat first enemy target. 43 EXP. Character will level up at the second enemy target."

And Mail frowned. "You alright? Wanna play a different game? I've got movies. Or, if you behave, we can go out and"

"No, I'm fine."

"Matt, are you sure? You're acting weird and depressed. -Can you get depressed?"

"I am incapable of exhibiting signs of depression, but thanks for the concern."

"Then, why are you so-"

"Dull, unresponsive, inactive? Because you don't want me to be anything else. I'm a _Copy_. You've made that clear. Even though I am the highest evolution of property, you look at me as little more than a play thing you've already grown bored of."

And Mail suddenly felt a pinch of guilt. Because this was true. He began to wonder why he wanted a Carbon Copy in the first place, but he couldn't quite recall. Slumping his shoulders, he said "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me, was it?"

No response. More tapping. Just two redheads and a too-thick atmosphere.

"Matt, I-"

"You won't even look at me."

"We're not supposed to make eye contact."

"Why? Give me one good reason, and I'll stop acting out; I'll be a good little bitch - if that's what you want."

And Mail fell silent, unsure of what he really wanted or why he wanted his own clone to begin with. So, taking a deep breath, he did the unthinkable. He brought his face closer to that of his Copy and, in one swift motion, both hands were at either side of the CC's head, fingers gripping the strap of the odd eye apparel and stripping it away.

And... though it was ominous and allegedly ill-fated, green eyes bore into milky white masses of nothing. A normal young man falling into the soulless depths of a cyber-genetic creation.

A soft gasp escaped the Host. The Copy stared, unseeing with artificial eyes but twitching from the sudden high CPU usage from his auto-sensors.

Mail struggled for words, but he was stupefied, motionless.

Matt failed to speak as well, but he responded by closing the gap between them; their lips collided like a white hot liquid lightning. Electricity and osmosis bursting from a chemical reaction that had never before occurred.

Both sets of eyes open, two sets of lips entranced. Hands, human or human-esque, all groping and fondling and tugging and scratching until both redheads were nude and on top of one another.

Redhead on redhead, porn wasn't as good.

Mail found his eyes wet for reasons he couldn't quiet explain. His own tears falling onto his Copy as he loomed overhead. Leaning down, those pheromones assaulted him and he captured a nipple between his teeth, biting and suckling, hungry.

Matt responded with heavily compressed breaths as he folded his arms over Mail, pulling him close before whispering: "make me not a virgin, and I'll show you heaven."

And that was all the encouragement the Host needed before drawing back supporting himself with just his arms until he sat back on his knees and gripped his Copy's hips. He distantly wondered if bruising might occur, but that thought was thrown out the window faster than Matt's synthetic body was drawn closer. "Wh-What position?"

"Doggy," Matt responded, smirking and reaching a hand up to tug at his Host's hair in a playful manner. "Woof."

"Turn over. Hands and knees. Now."

"Make me."

With a growl, Mail complied, forcefully grappling and flipping his duplicate before keeping hold of his mid-section and coaxing him to his hands and knees. Then, gripping those pale hips once more, he positioned himself and slammed in, penetrating Matt and fully sheathing himself in one go.

Simultaneous cries of pleasure emerged, Matt's head lolling and the muscles shuddering as Mail retreated and invaded once more. Both panting and gasping, heart and pump racing one another.

Organic and synthetic, Mail and Matt arched into one another, both lost in the act of fucking.

The only sound either can focus on is flesh sliding against flesh -the slick sound of precum acting as the only lubricant into the tight passage, and then... crying.

Suddenly, it's over. Less than four minutes and Mail had already climaxed, leaving himself as a mentally and physically drained individual with shaky limbs and tear-filled eyes. He removed himself from his Copy and sat back, wiping his eyes and whispering an apology, to which, Matt sat up and smiled.

"Don't apologize, Mail. What you're feeling right now- that's what church should feel like."

Hearing those words, Mail lost all inhibition and looked directly into Matt's eyes, white and cloudy and inhuman. The emptiness in them made him frown, but he was already crying anyways, and he found comfort in wrapping his arms around his duplicate. The warmth that radiated between them was intoxicating, and Mail never wanted to let go.

But, just then, something occurred to the Host; his eyes widened and he pulled away from his Copy. "You didn't go into Sleep Mode... and you didn't reset, did you?" A sense of dread and worry rifled through him, but one look at the over all expression of his Copy brought relief.

Regardless, the smirking Copy answered. "Mail, let's just say that my internal switches are harder to find than a woman's G-spot. Trust me, I'm unharmed and unchanged, but next time, don't expect me to let you top." And this time, Matt wrapped his arms around Mail, holding him and offering a support that was needed more than the Host wanted to admit.

"Thanks Matt."

"Hey, don't thank me. I was designed to be a sex companion."

"...I wasn't aware of that."

"Well, that's how it is. Now, aren't you supposed to be exhausted after sexual activity? I don't have that problem, but you might. So-"

"Matt, shut up and sleep with me."

And just like that, an organic and a synthetic human lay with one another. One unable to sleep and the other incapable.

Then, "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know why I wasn't supposed to look into your eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because it's part of the mystery. Doc couldn't create eyes that looked human enough, so he didn't want it to spoil the rest of the project."

"That's it? I thought it would be something more... I dunno. -I'm disappointed."

"I'm disappointed too. My Host couldn't last more than a few minutes during sex."

"Shut up, Matt, it's been a while!"

"Yeah, Mail? It was my first time."

"Go to hell."

"Go to church."

"...I'm going to sleep."

"Do _you_ have a button for that?"

"..."

...

* * *

**/It didn't turn out the way I planned (not entirely PWP, but to be fair, there wasn't much plot aside from boy gets clone and has sex with clone), and it's lame, I know. I'm sorry for the long wait, and I"m sorry for the extensive dialogue. But... eh, here it is./**


End file.
